Lorian's Discovery
by Bether6074
Summary: Trip and T’Pol’s son, Lorian, from the E squared universe, recalls a discovery he made on the day of his father’s death.


**Lorian's Discovery**

By Bether6074

Rating: G  
Genre: POV challenge, Drama, Angst  
Disclaimer: _Enterprise_ belongs to Paramount Studios.  
Summary: Trip and T'Pol's son, Lorian, from the E squared universe, recalls a discovery he made on the day of his father's death.  
A/N: This is just a little piece from the perspective of Lorian. I'd like to send out my thanks to my beta for her grammar fixes and running commentary (for B students such as myself). : )

Vulcans aren't supposed to love...

The view outside my porthole is awesome. A Vulcan would likely never admit to such a thing, but since I'm part human, I suppose I'm excused. Sometimes I sit with my face pressed to the glass for hours and watch the stars fly by. Space is really amazing, if you take the time to look and consider the possibilities.

Father was an exceptional engineer—maybe even Starfleet's finest, if I do say so myself. Many folks apparently didn't think of him as an overly-intelligent man, but they were wrong.

Dead wrong.

Father was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

He knew those engines inside and out like they were part of his own body. I can almost hear his voice now…

"There's much more involved with an engine's maintenance than just makin' a diagnostic check-up, Lorian. Ya have ta feel the life in 'em. Ya have ta listen to 'em breathe, son."

He'd take my hand and show me everything there was to know. And he'd look into my eyes with such warmth…

Father really brought out the human in me.

I've been studying his notes. Someday, I'm going to be the engineer of this ship and make him proud. He always seemed to find a way. Without fail, he always kept the engines running. Somehow and some way…

_I'll make you proud, Father. You'll see. I'll make you proud that I'm your son—the same way I was always proud to BE your son._

I've been taught a lot about Vulcans. I've been taught about how they…_we_ are supposed to behave. My parents were mindful enough to teach me about both my Human and Vulcan lineages. Traditions. Behavior. What is expected of me. A blending of cultures so different…

I guess I have broken the mold. I'm the first known real, live Human-Vulcan hybrid, the offspring of two entirely separate species.

Mother has taught me the Vulcan way. But, at the same time, she understands that my blood isn't entirely green and it never will be. She allows me to smile and cry, when the situation is appropriate for such responses. And yet, she also expects me to act dignified, respectful and in control of my emotions. For the most part, anyway... I've discovered that it takes careful effort to create a successful union within myself of both my Human and Vulcan ancestry. Mother has shown me the way.

Obviously, I've always known that my parents were together. They _were_ married after all…But I never truly understood what that meant until the accident.

Vulcans aren't supposed to love.

Mother and I were called down to Sickbay on that fateful day. I remember everything so vividly. The seemingly endless walk down the corridor…The sounds of our footsteps as we stepped toward the room…The sense of doom that seemed to hover in the air…The unforgettable expression on Mother's face when she first laid eyes on Father…

I stood back and watched them. Trip and T'Pol. Human and Vulcan. Father and Mother.

He was awake. Mother took his hand into hers. It was something I'd never seen her do before. She ran her thumb along his skin and clenched his fingers to her palm. Father was barely moving…in pain from injuries so severe he could never survive them, but his eyes never left hers. And hers never left his.

I felt a lump form in my throat as tears streamed down my face. Logic had no place in that room.

They didn't speak. Words weren't needed. Their love for one another was clear. And even at the tender age of fourteen years, I felt it through them. I felt blessed to have seen love for the first time that day.

Vulcans aren't supposed to love.

It's simply not true.

Whenever I look at myself now, I know that it can not be true, for I see it. I feel it. I hear it.

I see it in the blueness of my eyes and in the shape of my ears.

I feel it in the stubbornness of my soul. I feel it in my desire to know engines.

I hear it in my laughter and… in my silence.

Father. Mother. Me.

Vulcans _can_ love.

I am the proof.


End file.
